


How Much Is A Soul Worth? | Minsung

by Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel Hwang Hyunjin, Angels, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Character Study, Deal with a Devil, Demon Seo Changbin, Demons, Denial of Feelings, Depressed Han Jisung, Depression, Gen, Grim Reaper Lee Minho, Grim Reapers, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, No Smut, POV First Person, References to Depression, Sad Ending, Sad Han Jisung | Han, Souls, This is in Changbin's POV btw, Triggers, Yang Jeongin | I.N is a Sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25781167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan/pseuds/Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan
Summary: Humans were special- whereas other entities such as demons, angels, grim reapers, didn't have souls. Though they were thought to be the lowest among them: the prey to demons, the paperwork to reapers, the consort to angels.But Changbin had always wondered.What would it take for a Grim Reaper to fall in love with a human? How much would that soul need to be worth?
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Dear

Seungmin.

I know that we've not talked in a while. I wished that we have. Had I not been so busy, maybe we could've brought hell upon a small portion of the city, or maybe dine in the darkest pits. I know you like the smallest moments of time on earth, always capturing them into your pictures. I never understood why you did that, but maybe we could've done such a thing.

My friendship with you wasn't perfect. And demons like us were never friends. Was it a mutual rivalry? Was it a slightly warmer acquaintance?

Either way, this was the first thing I thought of as I lay dying beside some trashed bicycle. Romantic, I know.

You never gave up on that human I had a contract with. Even though I had always ignored you and rejected your wishes to know of the events. You knew I lied to you about it but kept pretending as if I didn't know. I did, but this certain human affair was too boring for you.

But it's time you knew. After I die, you wouldn't ever know. This is the least I could do for you. And maybe I should've told someone, after all, that's the reason why the angels stand before me now, searching for me to deliver the final blow. They're always talking about the balance of all living things, and I had disrupted it. If it weren't for that loud-mouth Hyunjin, I would still be alive. Or maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I already sealed my fate when I shook hands with that human.

Angels are such an uptight bunch, aren't they?

But I've decided.

I've decided that I want to rebuilt my friendship with you. Even though you'll never see me again and this might be my last few hours- I still want to tell you. You've asked fervently, and I'm answering your enthusiasm. I've always admired that about you.

So, this is for you, Seungmin.


	2. Sketch

For a demon, you're still as young as they go.

We aren't born but made. We didn't fall, but rose. You've only lived upon us for less than a century, so I'm willing to explain minor things to you to speed up your learning.

From the moment we come upon the earth, we are not taught. We don't have a mother or father; we are ourselves. We are not brothers or sisters. But I've considered you a demon closer to a brother than an entity, same as me. I should've taught you more during your time. I'm sorry that I never got around to.

But the first things we learn about ourselves are the place in which we take upon the hierarchy of other entities. We, the demons, feed upon the humans who are below us. The angels do little to protect them, but they still do to the ones that are part of His plan. And the grim reapers send their souls to the afterlife once they bite the dust. It's the basic hierarchy that everyone knew.

There is some sort of hidden, unspoken truce between us. Everyone knew of each other's existence, except for the humans, our prey. They've speculated and contemplated, but they've never concluded, except for those who we choose to show our presence to. Of course, most succumb to insanity, for they cannot handle our actual identities. As an alternative, we hide between them, replacing our hide with their skin and they don't even have a clue.

Even if we see them below us, without their souls, we will starve. Of course, someone as young as you, Seungmin, won't be able to live without eating for a decade. But as you grow older, your tastes will grow more defined as you rise within our ranks and will be able to live for centuries without even a nibble to find that perfect taste.

I had not eaten for three centuries. But I was a picky bitch.

I did not let mere humans summon me for most human souls are tasteless. Think of it as grilling meat. Though, it was left on the grill far too long than recommended, and wasn't even seasoned. It was tough, gamy. I was waiting for that soul that was at _least_ salted. And at last, I was summoned.

Though, it wasn't of a normal cult or incantations or someone provoking my anger as I was used to. Instead, I felt a _want_.

I was surprised, at first, for a normal human to call for me. Usually, it took a group of people to summon my power, or at least a witch. But as a human? Maybe for you, while you're reading this, might think that it's not that big of a deal. But for me, it was.

The soul that had called out to me was a sad, petty thing. It was small, so close to being dimmed. That soul might be tasteless, maybe even infuriating for all demons, even the lowest among us. But I still appeared before him.

I asked Jisung what he wanted.

He shook before me, gun pressed against his head still shaking so harshly. I only smiled at him, his soul at the edge of its life. Why I appeared at his calling, I did not know. He did not call for me directly. I only felt his soul trying to grasp to the last strands of life, wanting someone to save him from himself.

And so I did.

I placed my fingers on that gun and pushed it away from him. He kept staring at me, his eyes wide, but blank. Humans had a saying, that the eyes were the window to the soul. And as I stared down at them, those windows were blocked by a dark, thick curtain. One that I could not see through, except for the tiniest crack between each draping cloth.

He didn't speak, but I knew what he craved.

So again, I asked him what he wanted.

"I don't know," he replied to me. He didn't know who I was, but he never asked. I think he had an idea to who I was, despite the missing introduction. He kept his gaze on me. But they never questioned. They had fear in them, but it wasn't because of me.

I offered him my hand. He stared at it for a moment, and he seemed to understand, at least a little. He didn't smile, but it wasn't a frown either. His jaw just hung unhinged and his eyes were now glossy. Though he was sitting upon his couch, his lanky body was still limp. My fingers never left the gun, and neither did his around the trigger. They only stayed there, lingering on what could've been.

The future he was mere seconds away from.

I suggested many things to give him some sort of idea. I listed fame, money, power. He only stared down at his hand, still gripping the gun.

Then I asked him:

_"Do you want to die?"_

"I don't know."

And that was it. I took the gun from him, turned on the safety, and placed it on the coffee table. I offered him my hand again. He didn't say anything more but he knew. He just _knew_ what I offered. Because deep down, his soul begged him to stay. His soul fought his mind and body. It was an internal war within him, and when I held out my hand, I offered peace between them.

He took my hand, shaking it lightly.

And he did not accept because of a need. Most humans asked for selfish needs that they are too lazy to get. Money, power, fame, knowledge. Humans always want the shortest path. After all, their lives are much shorter than us, demons, angels, reapers.

He shook my hand because he had no other choice. Fighting against himself was tearing himself apart. He needed help. And I offered. I was there when no one else wasn't. I was the only one who held out a hand, so he took it.

He asked me if he was crazy.

I told him that he was the sanest person on earth.


	3. Halftone.

I never told Jisung this.

But there was someone else there that day.

Jisung couldn't sleep, so I closed his eyes for him until morning came. I told him I would wake him up when the first spots of sunlight hit his face. He didn't answer, only nodded before laying comfortably on the couch.

Once he was out, my eyes left his small, sleeping frame, and onto the dark corner of the living room. The street lights from outside didn't reach past the toes of his shiny dress shoes, the rest of his broad body engulfed in the shadows. Defined face, sharp eyebrows, dark narrow eyes.

He had his hands shoved in his pockets, glancing at his watch. He carried a small book with him, writing something between the pages.

I've seen him once or twice in my lifetime. Around 1950, I think. During the war. Reapers were always busiest then. I think I've killed one or two of his friends; I don't know. Honestly, they were all the same to me.

They do nothing but mindless work. They don't eat or drink, only sleep to refill their energy for the day after. And if demons lived in the dark, and angels in the light, then reapers were the halftone in between. They were not the embodiment of good or evil. They were trapped within a gray area where their morals were stripped from them.

His name was Lee Minho. I think you've met him once before- or maybe you know him more than I do. Maybe you don't know him at all- I should've asked if you know this reaper. But all entities have a mutual hate and respect for each other. We stayed out of each other's way, so meeting him in the same room was surprising for me at first. Reapers knew how each human dies, even those containing contracts. So why he was here now?

"I thought something smelled," He scoffs at me, shutting the book and eyes flickering up. Even though we avoided each other, there was always this disdain between each entity. We don't like reapers because they're too uptight. Reapers don't like angels because they act like they're higher than them and only end up giving them more paper work. Angels don't like us because we're the embodiment of all evil and so on. 

"What are you doing here?" I asked, humming and shoving my hands in my pockets. I sauntered over to the kitchen, opening a cupboard or two to examine any of my client's possessions. There wasn't much. Some cookies, instant coffee, food that humans eat to regain small spurts of energy. 

"I could as the same for you," Minho replies, his eyes never leaving me. If you'd seen him, you'd laugh as I did. He looked more like a demon, hiding in the shadows, eyes feral almost. The only thing he was missing was red slit eyes. Maybe he'll make a worthy addition to the group.

But no, I knew why he was here. I mean- Jisung. The kid was mere seconds away from the afterlife. If his soul wasn't so desperate he'd be dead by now. This was kind of a last-minute thing, and I could see where the reaper was coming from. Actually, no, I didn't. But I didn't care.

Minho shut the book, walking over to the kitchen and stuffing it in his suit jacket. He searched a cupboard or two, finally finding the bottle of liquor that hid silently in the corner, pouring it into a glass and taking a sip.

"Why?" I laughed at him, my eyebrows raising. "Gives you memories?"

"We're running short on grim reapers because of the likes of you," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. He hisses when he downs another shot. "It was his time to become a grim reaper- you just gave me a whole day's work of paperwork."

"Do I care?" I mocked him, leaning over and dramatically pouting my lips. Minho stared at me with his cup of liquor. Maybe he was on the verge of splashing it on my face, and I momentarily wondered how far I could push this reaper. "The early bird gets the worm. If you wanted him, you should've gotten to him first."

And indeed he should've. You know how competitive I get, Seungmin. I didn't notice it back then, but the reason my instinct led me to Jisung was because of his soul. And clearly, the reason I stayed was because I was trying to figure out what _it_ was. I guess Minho saw this too. Because when I said that, he placed the glass on the counter and stared at me. He wanted me to speak further, to continue indulging him. But I couldn't give that satisfaction. Us demons are creatures of pride, after all. 

"Today he was supposed to die," Minho murmurs. 

"I don't care," I punctuated with a smile, returning to Jisung's side and sitting on the other side of the couch, by the younger's feet. He was sleeping much more soundly, despite the unbearing aura that came from Minho. Let me tell you, grim reapers don't have a history of killing demons as we do to them. But I do believe that they could, if prompted. And I also believe Minho could easily do so to other demons. A part of me wanted to indulge him further. 

But by the time I turned around to mock him again about Jisung, he had already disappeared. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all!  
> The main author of this is @burntt._.toastt (on Instagram) and I'm merely a co-writer lmao.  
> She wanted to attempt to write something new, we don't know if it going to come out good or not but I hope y'all enjoy <33


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